


we're on each other's team

by gutsey



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blood, Blow Jobs, Cuckolding, Fantasy, Hand Jobs, Human/Vampire Relationship, Humiliation, Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Vampires, Voyeurism, but im the one whos humiliated, fic equivalent of getting coal for christmas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27764329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gutsey/pseuds/gutsey
Summary: Yeosang grows weary in his castle, lonesome all day. And Wooyoung, his husband's new toy, is nothing if not a sight for sore eyes.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 8
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> me at 4 am: i am going to write a fic that is so stupidly self indulgent 
> 
> and so i added vampire yeosang, cuckold san(i know?!?!), little bar boy wooyoung and then just put them together on a lovely little island.  
> enjoy !

It’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s foolish, it’s rash. A completely childish decision, made on some romantic whim like most of San’s life choices are. Yeosang finally decides he’s had enough of it.

A few seasons ago, Yeosang was unconcerned, confident even. He didn’t have it in himself to be worried over that bar boy - _Wooyoung_ \- scooting his way into the otherwise happy couple. No, it was simply damaging to his ego. He had heard about San’s capricious nature from the town elders even before their engagement but he had kept that knowledge back in some dusty corner of his mind, to unpack some other day when he had enough courage to. Surely the trust he’s garnered with the members of the household (but mostly San) would be enough guarantee for him to rest at ease. Especially when he’s put up against that coy little Wooyoung. 

It started with the little things. San encouraging Yeosang to be more open-minded, happily letting others steal Yeosang for a dance at the yearly ball. Which slowly turned to San encouraging Yeosang to meet up with other men and feeding him far-fetched tales of polygamy and how it 'runs in the family'. Yeosang felt unwanted for the longest, then later realized his husband was just an idiot who wanted to include more people in their relationship but never learnt to be straightforward.

Then it happens.

"I think I'm in love with Wooyoung," San says one morning at the table, not being considerate enough to drop the bomb after Yeosang's done with breakfast. He's giddy with excitement. Yeosang, on the other hand, feels like he's being narrated the obituary column from the morning newspaper. 

"It's just a phase, dear. It will pass. Like last time you had a liking towards our milkman."

"Nuh-uh," San says, mouth full with food. "This one's different. I can feel it. _He_ can feel it."

"Why don't you ask him if he wants to be with you? I'm sure he'll enjoy finding out you're already married. Ha!" Yeosang exclaims, tasting victory for a brief moment.

"Oh, Yeosang," San says, heaving a dreamy sigh. "You're so considerate. Don't worry, he's more than fine with you!"

Yeosang's system fails for a second and he chokes, coughing up a storm, punching his chest. For a second, he thinks, _this is it. This is how I exit._ Then he washes it down with water.

"Just something down the wrong pipe. I'll be alright," Yeosang croaks out, holding his chest. He just didn't expect San to be straightforward.

"Well, then! Can I bring him home for a little visit?"

"Absolutely fucking not."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because?"

"I'm done with breakfast," Yeosang says sulkily, getting up. "I do not want to get involved with that boy, and bringing him home means that I will."

"Hey, honey," San says, reaching out to grab Yeosang's wrist. "I feel like you're mad."

"Why would I be mad?" If nothing, Yeosang knew how to be passive-aggressive.

"Then pinky swear you're not mad!" Yeosang chooses to ignore his husband this time, and storms away to the library, craving to read his favorite romance novels all of a sudden. The specific genre where the male protagonist dies at the end.

Okay, Yeosang admits once he cools down: San's choice isn't half bad. Wooyoung's good at his job. He’s good at making the stone-cold soldiers burst out in peals of laughter, selling out barrels upon barrels of beer, and declaring house full in less than three hours of opening. And he's charmingly handsome.

Still, Yeosang mentally rolls his eyes when he thinks about it. After centuries of living you would think his husband would have a changed preference, but what do you know. San fell in love with Yeosang, who worked at a bar at that time. Maybe it was in San's veins to be a drunkard, alcohol just never hurt him like it did other creatures. It just made sense San found his lover at the pub. Twice. Not anymore than twice, though, Yeosang hopes.

While Yeosang spends his days reading sappy tales about humans, the rest of the townspeople live their lives at the base of the hill, where all the shops are. To many it’s just a busy seaside town in the middle of an otherwise uninhabited island. To others, its a getaway. And to some, its home. Take Yeosang and San, for example. They live at a mansion on the very top of the hill. (San refers to it as a castle but Yeosang has taught him many times not to say that in front of guests who come to sightsee the place as it sounds downright rude).

It’s a single, paved road downhill from the mansion to the city centre where The Shamrock, a famous pub, is located, and all kinds, San included, visit to get a hearty fill of those beer-stained streets complete with the hustle bustle of people haggling for clothes and food. (Although, there must be some connection between Wooyoung being a permanent employee of The Shamrock and San visiting so often).

All the other bars, though far and few, are too tense, everyone hunched over their own game of cards. And if silence falls, it isn't until the next day that someone is heard laughing again.

However, Wooyoung isn’t as popular in his bar boy career as Yeosang was back in the day. _Subjectively_. Yeosang had never visited The Shamrock to truly see Wooyoung in the flesh, but he had glared at San holding hands with him outside their mansion. San underestimates the view from Yeosang's window.

Word goes round, though. Yeosang had heard Wooyoung plays shy to coerce a few extra coins. He lures the customers in with giggles and light pats on shoulders then it’s either chug the beer down or he’d attend a braver customer. Yeosang was never dirty like that during his career. At least not in his first century.

Hard military men used to court Yeosang in his youth. Not... _San_. And for that reason, Yeosang feels pity for Wooyoung sometimes. 

However, Yeosang's established in his subconscious mind that they will live happily ever after. No one is going to just barge in and kick him out and tell him he’s no longer part of the huge family portrait in the hall. Paintings don’t work like that.

And then one rainy day, something even worse happens. Yeosang is still in the library, dusting and arranging his small personal bookshelf - a little piece of his soul - when the main doors of the castle swing open simultaneously with the sound of thunder. Yeosang wants to roll his eyes at the theatrics. Terror fills the cavernous space and Yeosang rushes out, pretending to be an anxious damsel waiting for his liege.

To his dismay, he sees San with his arm around a smaller form. A short boy blanketed in some sort of cloth. The boy stares at the ground apologetically and Yeosang wants to pinch his soft belly to make him look straight.

There’s a small puddle where the both of them are standing, drying themselves off with the towels hurriedly provided by the maids. San’s hair is dripping black into his eyes. His clothes are wrinkled and soaked and his hands are littered with small cuts and splinters. His face is polluted by soot marks and it honestly looks like he's preparing to commit an act of guerilla warfare. Yet his hurried whispers and jovial exposition tell a different story.

Yeosang’s blood boils. He feels it being pumped in hot spurts in his veins and he wants to claw at himself to vent it out. Jealousy always made Yeosang a bit bloodthirsty.

Yeosang shifts on his feet as he sees it all unravel. He clears his throat, expecting San to acknowledge his presence but he does nothing of the sort. Yeosang feels his throat constrict in a violent embarrassment. He makes a pained face, baring his fangs. He does his best to hide it, not wanting San to know how much the prospect of sharing affects the bloodthirsty creature.

“Who is this?” Yeosang asks San as if he doesn't already know, hoping the bitterness from inside him translates to tongue. The small boy looks up, meeting eyes with San, asking permission to answer. San gives a little nod. Yeosang admits the boy would be lovely to look at if he currently didn't want to chew him apart.

“I’m Wooyoung, I work at the bar just down the hill.” _I know,_ Yeosang thinks. "We were closing for the day and my cabin was so far away for this heavy rain so we- I ran here,” he says, nudging San away as damage control. “I’ll be gone as soon as it settles, promise I won’t be a burden!”

If Yeosang was his usual self, he would’ve picked the little temptress up by his collar and _thrown him_ \- escorted him out. But he was feeling rabid, his mind in a frenzy. The house-husband had persevered through his day, only running on the fact that San would return and reward him with kisses for being so, so patient. Instead, he got a slap to his cheek (the mellowness in San’s gaze), and a slap on the other (Wooyoung’s little giggles as San dries him off). Yeosang thinks he’s witnessing a crime scene. Well, there’s no corpse or blood splatters anywhere, but that can change any moment.

Yeosang walks in fast strides to the drenched pair. He searches his lover’s eyes for any hint of remorse but they’ve gone soft from all the booze. Yeosang tears his gaze away from San and pokes a finger into Wooyoung’s chest.

“I know exactly who you are,” he says, gritted out between closed teeth, and he’s mentally screaming at San to notice how much he hates this. Yeosang can swear he feels the boy light up at his words in some sort of masochistic fashion.

“You know me? From where? Maybe you come by the Shamrock often?” the boy asks, and Yeosang isn’t sure if it’s just the moisture from the rain or it’s just how it’s meant to be but the boy’s eyes _glimmer_ with interest and Yeosang can’t find anything else to focus on. Wooyoung grabs Yeosang’s wrist from where its digging into his chest and moves snug into his space, relying on inquiring just from his eyes. And it’s too much, Wooyoung smells like freshly picked cotton and it cloys it’s way through Yeosang. He can’t help but twitch at the sheer proximity of the other and then he’s jerking his arm back and making a nonsense expression to San for help. San just stands there, of course, smiling dumbly.

“See! Isn’t he so pretty!” San says, ruffling Wooyoung’s hair like he’s playing with a puppy.

“He’s not a souvenir.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t keep him. Please?”

“Wah-" Yeosang gasps as if he's offended. " _Keep_ him?” 

“He gives the best cuddles! ’s alright we can share him. Right, Wooyoung?” The boy is caught in the crossfire, and the couple stare at him intently. 

“I won't have a problem sharing a bed with you two,” Wooyoung says in the quietest voice.

“See? He agrees.”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks! We have plenty of places in this fucking _castle_ of yours that’s not our bedroom!”

“Does that mean you’re letting him spend the night?” San asks wondrously. Yeosang could've cried if he was invisible.

The judge slams the gavel on his fate. He knows he’s fighting a hopeless war. Yeosang knows it and he hates that he knows it. He should really start setting up boundaries. San is too good at this.

* * *

Out of spite, Yeosang doesn’t offer to help the soaked pair with their path to unsoaked-ness.

"No," he says, to any request he’s received from his husband that night, arms crossed tightly. He's barely holding himself together from lashing out.

"Fine!" San thunders, grabbing Wooyoung's wrist and storming away. Yeosang feels something gnaw at his insides at the disappointment San shows, yet he doesn't budge from his spot. Even when San power walks to one of the empty rooms to run a bath for Wooyoung.

"We don't have warm water on the ground floor! We've talked about this!" Yeosang shouts from his spot. A second later San re-emerges with Wooyoung trailing behind, and power walks downstairs instead, leaving a trail of wet footsteps to the basement.

* * *

Yeosang returns to the grand bedroom after arranging his personal bookshelf for the week. Its the place the married couple share. San is already in the bath, humming and whistling a tune until the water audibly stirs, and suddenly a head is peeking out, steam radiating from all that is observable. Just one look at his slicked back hair and dimpled smile and Yeosang is ready to pardon all of San’s sins.

“Yeosang. Honey. Apple of my eye. My nightingale. Fire of my loins. I really am useless without you,” San says, shooting a cannon of _something_ onto Yeosang. It subtracts from the moment, but San looks delicious and Yeosang is ready to overlook it already.

“You see, we were distracted and I kind of forgot to give Wooyoung pants. Or a blouse. Or a towel. Basically everything.”

Oh.

Yeosang hurls whatever he can grab from the night stand towards San’s face but not before San senses his life is in danger and slams the door shut. The lampshade, he finds out, collides with the wall and falls to the ground with a sad thump.

“Hey, we promised not to fight over these things again!” San shouts behind the door. Yeosang couldn’t care less about the little vixen downstairs. He’s clever enough to provide for himself. There’s plenty of clothes in the basement closet. Surely one hasn’t been totally eaten by moths.

“Listen, just. At least throw him a bathrobe or something, I’ll take care of the rest once I’m out.” Yeosang panics. The last thing he needs is San and that little temptress alone in a room, naked.

“On second thought, there’s already some chores in the basement I have to tend to. Take your time in there. I’ll manage with him. With Wooyoung, I mean.”

"Chores? At this hour? Wait- Honey." San sneaks a precarious look outside but Yeosang's already gone.

* * *

In the basement, Yeosang knocks on the bathroom door, scoffing when he steps on the disarray of damp clothes being used as a makeshift mat. 

"Yes?" 

“Coming in," Yeosang cautions, pushing the door open slightly and warm, soapy steam wafts into his airways. He hears water slosh out of the tub.

An abrupt “Oh-” escapes the boy. He slouches in the bath, hair jet black, blacker than anything Yeosang’s ever seen. Even darker than San’s. It’s an eerie contrast to Yeosang’s own blonde locks.

“I brought you fresh clothes and a towel,” he says, facing the giant mirror on the wall opposite the boy, mustering up some kindness now that San’s out of the picture and his rabid mind doesn’t run on possessiveness. As he’s arranging the pile of clothes, he steals glances at Wooyoung in the mirror. He's pink all over, like he’s scrubbed too hard or too quick. He looks like prey and Yeosang wants a bite. _Where was all this reserve and vulnerability hiding?_

Seeing the poor boy so jumpy and different from his usual demeanor makes a dirty thrill rush through Yeosang.

“Now, now. No need to be so shy. We’re all cursed by the same mark from mother nature. She would be disappointed seeing two of her own so distant.” Upon hearing no reply from Wooyoung, Yeosang undergoes a belated enlightenment.

“Don’t tell me. Don’t tell me you’re...not...” Yeosang crouches down to the boy’s level, searching his eyes. It’s not very often he sees the common man this delectable.

“So you’re human?” Yeosang feels the corners of his mouth twitching uncomfortably. He smiles in a sort of coping mechanism. There is no fucking way San intentionally chose a human over him. Wooyoung turns a shade brighter, almost resembling fresh salmon.

“Do you not like humans?” he asks, and if his eyes weren’t so full and brimming with life, Yeosang would’ve thought he was about to cry. He takes a second to arrange his thoughts.

“Forget it. Let me just wash your back for you, hm?”

“Oh. Okay. Sure.” It’s quite hard for Yeosang to concentrate on doing a good job while planning his husband’s funeral. He’s just lathering soap wherever, going over spots he’s already done. Wooyoung is just so alive, and fresh and red. He’s reactive, jerking every time Yeosang reaches a little too far, scrubs a little too fast. Yeosang can see Wooyoung’s abdomen contract when his breath hitches, shoulders caving in when Yeosang’s hands slither to his front, massaging the boy’s chest. Wooyoung’s eyelids droop and he sinks lower into the bath. Yeosang’s hands never touch Wooyoung's little nubs, yet they're hard and perky.

Wooyoung is warm, searing even. Its like he's radiating warmth. His neck is so pretty, leading down to the soft muscles of his back. He has the most unique vein placement and that alone makes Yeosang want to keep him. His shoulders are tinged pink and lovely. And there it is. Right there. His jugular vein. Yeosang had been trying to keep his eyes away from the boy’s neck the best he could. But here he was, lost to his own vices. He had heard stories about perfect prey. He’d just never thought it'd be his husband's new toy.

Yeosang is transfixed on that one spot. He can hear the boy’s blood pumping in his vessels, just waiting to burst and flow out in streams of hot red. He doesn’t remember how long it’s been since he had a proper meal. He does remember, however, how good it had tasted.

Yeosang's gaze lingers on Wooyoung's parted, glistening lips trailing down to his unmarred neck. He cups Wooyoung's face and closes in until his nose is pressed directly into his neck, taking a long inhale inside his space. With every waft, Yeosang feels like he’s losing sense of his surroundings. Wooyoung smells heavenly, and he puts up no resistance. He wets his lips and stares at that exact spot he wants to bite into. He closes his eyes in a last attempt to steady himself and stop. More than anything, he wants Wooyoung to give him a reason to stop. But then Wooyoung bares his neck, and Yeosang feels a century-old dam break inside him. He latches his lips onto the thickest vessel on his neck, licking and suckling and doing everything in his will to keep himself from biting into flesh. Keep himself from doing what he actually wants to.

“Nnuh!" Wooyoung struggles, hands thrashing to grab a hold of Yeosang, instead settling for the sides of the tub. Yeosang tucks hair behind Wooyoung’s ear, using that as leverage to pull him towards himself. He trails a sloppy stripe up Wooyoung’s jaw, and kisses right below his ear, sucking it nice and red. Yeosang's submerges his hand in the water, letting it sit at the bed of the tub, kneading the boy's thigh. Wooyoung giggles as he holds the sides of Yeosang's face. Soon, they're leaning in for another kiss. 

Yeosang thinks he might get addicted to Wooyoung's warmth. His hand feels Wooyoung's half hard cock, pumping it. Wooyoung's inhales sharply, no longer giggling. His back straightens as he processes the agonizing strokes. He harshly circles his thumb on the head of the cock, feeling the slippery precum, differentiating it from the soapy water. Yeosang goes back to tugging at the shaft and Wooyoung doesn't have it in himself to keep up. His mouth hangs open and he's more panting against Yeosang's mouth than kissing him.

Yeosang digs a thumb into his slit, the source of the sticky liquid, and Wooyoung gasps before his legs go limp. Yeosang pulls away and watches the boy like a cheshire cat, chin on fist. His other hand comes to a halt around Wooyoung’s cock with a loose grip and the boy eventually catches on.

“Please...” he begs, honest and pitiful.

“Aren't you enjoying yourself too much?”

”Yes, yes, because of you. Your hand, please," Wooyoung says shamelessly.

"Please what?"

"Please...touch me."

"Like this?" Yeosang asks, trailing his nails gently along the base of his cock. It makes Wooyoung writhe in the bathtub.

"No...please use your hand...on my cock."

“Why would I do that?” Yeosang takes his teasing act further, copying what San does when they're having sex. The gleam of Wooyoung's eyes looks obscene now. “That's too much work. But you can use my fist."

Wooyoung looks somewhere between catatonic and embarrassed. Still, the little jerks of his hips betray his expression. He thrusts into the warm grip, falling apart.

Then, Yeosang registers frenzied footsteps on the floor above, and even though the architectural opinion assured the staircases were soundproof, San manages to cause an audible ruckus down the stairs.

”Better finish before he catches us,” Yeosang whispers, giggling. The boy lets out a frustrated sound at that, brow furrowing, and he’s rutting at great speed. Yeosang shows some mercy to the boy for once and tightens his grip to aid him. San is whistling a tune, making his arrival very obvious before knocking thrice on the door.

“Hello, anybody there? Honeys?” he says in a sing-song tone.

“Answer him,” Yeosang whispers.

"Ah, coming! Nnh- I’m coming!” Wooyoung says, hips bucking, spilling his load onto Yeosang's hand. 

“No need, take your time! Get nice and clean!” San says on the other side, oblivious.

Yeosang milks Wooyoung's cock until he goes soft. The boy lays still in the water, spent.

"Let’s run you a new bath, hm?” Yeosang says when he no longer hears his husband. 

* * *

That night, the skies are brutal and the rain doesn’t stop. San pleads for Wooyoung to sleep between the couple. Yeosang doesn’t show much resistance to the idea this time.

Yeosang is laying down facing the other way, actively avoiding having to look at the boy’s face. He doesn’t dislike looking at the boy. Its more his urges that distract him and send him spiraling into that headspace. The one where he doesn’t care about the social implications of voring a bar boy. He doesn’t admit that to San, of course. It’s so immature of him, as if he’s still in his infancy. Especially because he's half a century older than his husband. He’s already past imagining all the different ways he can harm Wooyoung when both of them are unconscious, yet he still can’t fall asleep.

Suddenly, he hears the bed shift behind him. He pins it to Wooyoung being a restless sleeper, probably comes with being a human. The bloodthirsty, on the other hand, slept like the dead. But soon he’s proved wrong. He feels a touch on his bare arm and then he recognizes San nuzzling into his nape, hand skating down and settling on the narrowest part of his torso. As to how San had managed to clamber over Wooyoung without waking him up remains a mystery, but Yeosang’s eager mind dismisses it. He suppresses a smile and acts to be fast asleep. San softly kisses the back of his neck, nibbling the area as a mock of what he actually wants to do and it becomes increasingly hard for Yeosang to fake sleep. Then San half-hooks a leg over Yeosang and it dawns on him.

Yeosang can feel San’s thick, hard cock press against the plush of his ass. He’s lightheaded imagining how San had gotten so far along before coming to him for help. Yeosang feels guilty for not letting San know he’s awake, he knows, yet he keeps hush and enjoys every passing second of it. San presses his hips onto Yeosang’s ass, gently grinding and Yeosang knows he’s holding back. San knows how much Yeosang likes the idea of being used when he’s not aware, and Yeosang has begged for more of it. But it’s never been like this, where San is doing what he usually does and Yeosang’s secretly awake. He feels dirty, guilty, and so so needy.

"Fuck, you feel so good, Yeosang," San whispers painfully, and the words go straight down to Yeosang's cock. "Help me," 

Its different to when they’re both awake and aware, Yeosang usually has more control over what happens to his body. But like this, it’s all up to San. He needs San to go faster and harder. He wants to feel San closer to his skin. Wants San to take his clothes off. He thinks if he repeats it enough times in his head, San would magically get the idea.

The rayon of his gown is too warm and it sticks to his skin in a way that chafes his nipples. Yeosang just wants to strip or protest or press back, yet he's forced to lay still, completely lifeless like a doll. Barely something to be played with. He can hear San pant into his ear, muffled noises of struggle that show he is very intent on not disturbing Yeosang’s slumber. When Yeosang decides he’s about to go insane, or maybe halfway there already, he gently grinds back, eliciting a sharp hiss from San. The other immediately grabs Yeosang’s hips to temper the pace, driving his clothed cock between his ass. Yeosang feels his mind clouding, like it’s being stuffed with cotton and San’s little pants are the only things keeping him grounded. And he doesn’t even realize it before he’s crying out.

“You're awake?”

“Nn,” is all the denial Yeosang can offer, plastering his ass back onto San’s cock. San’s hips come to a halt.

“You want my cock?”

“Yes, please," Yeosang says. "Need it so much.”

Yeosang holds onto San's hand, guiding it to his tender chest. San’s hand is calloused and the friction it provides is agonizing. He squeezes his pecs like he means his touch to hurt, then takes the hard the little nub in between his thumb and finger and twists. The touch feels reprimanding but it sends blood rushing down to Yeosang's cock all the same. 

“Why?” San asks, pulling down his pants and whipping out his cock all with one hand, flitting the hard thing on Yeosang’s bare ass. Yeosang whines in protest, feeling his reason recede further. He can't register the question before he's already forgotten what it was about. 

“Huh? No, just want you,” Yeosang says, wanton. And if his mind didn't feel like a boiling kettle, he'd be ashamed to sound so needy.

"You want my cock so bad? I fucked you in the morning, can't you wait till tomorrow?" San acts like he's trying to reason with Yeosang. Yeosang thinks its too cruel to ask questions at this point. "Now I'm curious what you'd be like if I don't fuck you for a week."

“No, please. We can try that later. Right now, I need you, San. Please, I'll suck your cock.” Yeosang bargains with high stakes and San's shocked out of his mind. Despite being all-feared and a creature of the night, Yeosang has a killer gag reflex. San was never not going to fuck Yeosang and he, himself, was on his last run, about to give in any moment and cum on Yeosang. But San had succeeded in breaking all of his husband's defenses and had arrived at the last station.

“You sure?” San asks, voice catching in his throat a bit. In a flurry of actions, Yeosang turns back to face San, and grips the hard cock poking into his thigh. The sight of the red and rigid thing makes Yeosang affectionate for his husband. He rests his head against San’s collar, playing with his cock and the pair stay there for some time, watching each others' breathing become more ragged. 

"Get up," he says to San. "I can't hold it anymore."

Yeosang is frenzied and desperate, and it makes San chuckle a little despite himself. San undresses and sits in a relaxed manner at the edge of the bed, spreading his bare legs to make room for a distraught looking Yeosang. 

Yeosang's on his knees and the cold floor shows no mercy. Its as cold and hard as any other day Yeosang doesn't feel this embarrassed. He holds the base of the cock in a loose grip at first, enveloping his tongue over the cockhead, watching San's eyes flutter.

San's relieved Yeosang doesn't choose to tease. Rather, Yeosang forgets to, too caught up in the muddle of his mind and wanting to get fucked in the ass soon. He closes his mouth around the girthy cock, lightly tongueing the slit as he slobbers all over the head. He looks up into San's half lidded eyes and determines he must be feeling bliss. Yeosang almost feels apologetic for not sucking his husband's cock more often.

With a determined pace, his hand tugs and his mouth sucks. Soon, though, Yeosang realizes it's not enough. San wears the same fucked out expression but if he hasn't came yet, it could not have been that good. Yeosang tries taking in more of the length, stretching his jaw. San hisses and a hand makes its way into Yeosang's curls, applying a bit of downward pressure but not enough to keep Yeosang there. He curls his tongue around the underside of San's cock, making sure to drive the grooves of his tongue right over the glans. San bucks up into his mouth, breathing hard and Yeosang gags, already feeling his vision blur from tears. It becomes increasingly hard for Yeosang to concentrate on relaxing his throat and he gags every time he bobs his head to take in the length.

His own cock is leaking under the gown and the coarse fabric is the most torturous to rut against. He uses a free hand to palm his erection, mind growing dull and throat immediately relaxing. San can discern the sudden change and uses it to push Yeosang's head down his cock slowly, an imprint clearly visible down his throat. Its uncharted waters for both of them. 

Yeosang doesn't react much apart from muffled, low groans whenever San's cock tickles the back of his throat. San feels his balls tighten too hard, too quick. He feels it building up and ruts into the warmth before spilling his load down Yeosang.

Yeosang is forced to ingest it all, and it takes a good few wet glugs before he feels his mouth clean of cum. A wet patch on Yeosang's gown indicates he, himself came during some point. He looks up at San with a gaze that makes the younger chuckle in apology. 

"You were really good," San says, wiping Yeosang's lip with his thumb. Yeosang bares his fangs and San hurriedly snatches back his hand, expecting the worst after what had unraveled. Instead, Yeosang smiles, latching his lips on the soft part of San's thigh, sucking a small area of skin as a way of showing affection. San pats his head, and it all feels complete until-

"Gah! How long have you been awake?" Yeosang yells, taken aback.

Wooyoung sits on the bed with wide eyes, face pulled down in a frown. Then Yeosang's eyes travel farther down, to the boy's shorts. There's an unmistakable patch of wetness. And he's still hard.

God.

"I didn't mean to- I- You were just very loud." Wooyoung looks down at his shorts, but makes no attempt to cover his mess. Yeosang raises an eyebrow at the boy.

Wooyoung just looks more horny than apologetic. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeosang gets spitroasted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i asked santa to get me yeosang and he literally spat in my face 
> 
> furthest thing from being beta read <33

Living as an immortal creature doesn't mean Yeosang knows how to deal with San and his great many tactics. 

Despite being an airhead more often than not, San knows how to negotiate and push all the right buttons. Especially when it comes to Yeosang. He just has fun playing with his food. 

And much like San, Yeosang loves the smell of human blood, that rich, heady odor. Its something no amount of soap or water can remove. Something that can't just be masked with perfume. Yeosang should've recognized the telltale signs of the boy being a plain creature upon his arrival. The way his scent was potent enough that just a whiff could make Yeosang lose sense of time. The way his frame was easily towered by that of San. The way he reminded Yeosang of youth and innocence.

Slowly, though, Yeosang warmed up to him. His human scent was pleasant and he was timid enough to cause Yeosang little inconvenience. What Yeosang didn't expect, however, was his husband proving to be the troublemaker. 

_"I'm curious what you'd be like if I don't fuck you for a week."_

_“-We can try that later-"_

Yeosang regrets exchanging those exact words with his husband. 

The very reason they had that conversation was because Yeosang knew San wouldn't _actually_ go through with it. Because - well - San doesn't go through with most things, especially when they're as grave as promising celibacy for a week. But having monopoly over Wooyoung just meant San could be a tyrant as he pleased. And now, as a result, Yeosang has to witness Wooyoung and San play with each other's cocks until they're filthy with cum, while being strapped away, distant, bare and untouched.

Now that he thinks back to that day when it felt the sky would collapse with the burden of grey clouds, and how the night progressed, it was a pleasant memory in a twisted way...

It was shortly after the couple caught Wooyoung peeking.

San, spent from his orgasm, instructed Yeosang to stay on his knees, tone connotating a harshness that one would only use with a stray dog. Yeosang felt animalistic inside and out, and the rough treatment only riled him up, cock slowly growing erect under his clothes. 

There was something about San he never really grasped, but it didn't matter much to Yeosang anyway. Very obviously, San's personality seemed to change during sex and border on downright sadistic. Yeosang almost felt like it was an illusion, maybe just all in his head and consequently never gained the courage to address it the morning after. He was scared to probe too much. Like the ruse would disappear if he stirred the pot.

Back in their room, he saw Wooyoung replacing San on the bed wordlessly. Yeosang gulped. He was ashamed to be sitting in such a meek position, being stared at from above with uncaring eyes. As Yeosang lowered his gaze, San made his way around and settled right behind him, hugging him, suffocating him with his warmth. 

"What do you need?" San asked, pressing his lips to the shell of Yeosang's ear. San already knew the answer, Yeosang guessed as much. 

"Y-Your cock," Yeosang stuttered, as much a pet as San made him out to be. A thunderous boom indicated the storm was still strong as ever, and Yeosang found himself trembling. He wished it was a reason as innocent as the sudden noise sending a chill prickling between his spine, but that was far from the truth. 

"Where do you want it?" San whispered, trailing sloppy kisses down to Yeosang's shoulder. Yeosang squirmed, overwhelmed. He didn't know where. Rather he didn't want to say it out loud. Especially, not when Wooyoung was just lounging above him, observing like Yeosang was a showpiece. After an internal conflict, he chose the path of the coward and stayed silent. 

San's hands travelled around Yeosang, enveloping him and the elder found comfort in his hold for a brief moment. It was utterly shameless for San to be hugging so tight while Yeosang could feel his hard cock poke the small of his back.

"Nngh," Yeosang groaned as San rubbed his slippery cock on his backside. He wanted it so bad he was rutting on the floor, fist gripping his gown in tight little circles, trying to expend his energy somewhere to distract himself from the torture. But Yeosang had an uncompromised code of conduct with humans, he couldn't cum embarrassingly fast either, and was stuck in a vicious cycle.

Yeosang felt more animalistic than he had in years. He was reminded of his early days, when he would go hunting and track down prey as a hobby. Except the roles were reversed and Yeosang was feeling conflicted on whether to retaliate or bare his neck. 

San held out his fingers, pressing onto the plush of Yeosang's lips. Immediately, his jaw made way for the intrusion as he grabbed San's wrist to steady his hand and suckled on two of the digits, letting out little hums of approval. Yeosang's greed was met by San as he deemed appropriate. He pressed down on Yeosang's tongue with his thumb, and Yeosang whined in mock complaint. San didn't relent his hold and soon Yeosang found it hard to swallow with the pressure on his tongue. His gag reflex was painfully close to making him hurl. Drool flowed down his chin yet he still found himself sucking the thumb as he held San's wrist. 

"Pleahse..." he begged, barely able to articulate. As the last resort, he arched his back and ground against San's firm cock, inviting San's bruising grip to steady his hips. "Should I fuck your mouth instead?" San asked through gritted teeth.

"Bet you could come just from this."

Yeosang shook his head violently. 

"Then where, huh? Tell me. Wooyoung will be a good boy and won't listen. Right, Wooyoung?" Wooyoung looked like he'd been caught off guard and nodded lazily like he hadn't gotten the full message. 

"Good boy, Wooyoung," San said, a playful lilt in his voice. "Yeosang should learn from you." 

A sudden pang of anger hit Yeosang and the jealousy and embarrassment and absolute ruin rendered Yeosang absolutely useless. He gyrated his hips, forward to chase the torturous friction against his gown and backward to feel San's length and imagine how snug it'd fit inside him. Yeosang panted, already having developed a good rhythm, but San stopped him just short of an orgasm with a vice grip on his thighs.

Yeosang mewled at the loss of stimulation before he knew it and immediately realized his mistake. No one could see him like this except for San. No one could hear him make those sounds. He looked up at Wooyoung on the bed who was stroking his cock between spread thighs, shorts hanging off one of his legs, wearing the same fucked out expression as the one in the bathtub. He held his shirt up between teeth, full abdomen on display and cock bubbling precum like a spout. 

From then on, Yeosang found it hard to tear his eyes away from Wooyoung. Rather, he wanted to touch him, feel him, take him in anywhere. And from his angle, Wooyoung's cock loomed like a tower over him, threatening to spill cum at any moment. 

Yeosang found himself drooling even further, and everytime he swallowed, more ran down his chin. Wooyoung's cock looked tasty and wet like a delicacy, and he was reminded of the popsicles he'd buy when there was a fair in the town. 

However, he was pulled out of his thoughts when San palmed the wet spot on his gown. Yeosang threw his head back reflexively, and San licked a stripe around his jugular as he continued playing with Yeosang's cock. He tilted Yeosang's head so he could see where and how San was spoiling his cock, thumbing the cockhead through the fabric. Yeosang let out a painful exhale, all the while staring at Wooyoung, hips jutting up every now and then. San's nail veered into his slit, the exact spot that was letting out precum and making a sticky mess. Yeosang's body locked up, a moment away from coming right then and there. And expectedly, San pulled away. Yeosang's pants were starting to sound like sobs.

Wooyoung was moaning around the makeshift fabric gag in his mouth and he was now using one hand to flick his hard little nubs and the other to milk his cock, worked up just seeing Yeosang being toyed with. 

Yeosang found himself transfixed on Wooyoung's pretty cock, watching his hand envelope the red thing, main focus on jerking off the tip. Yeosang unknowingly leaned forward, biting down on his bottom lip.

San eventually caught on.

"Can't believe you're so fucking needy," San said under his breath, making quick work to position Yeosang on all fours. Yeosang immediately crawled towards Wooyoung and spread his thighs apart. Wooyoung let out a frustrated sound, and found Yeosang rubbing his cheek against his leaking cock. 

Yeosang grabbed Wooyoung's cock from where it was standing erect next to his stomach and tapped on the tip, watching a line of wetness connect his finger to it. He looked up at Wooyoung, licking a fat stripe from the base to the tip.

"I'm gonna come," Wooyoung admitted right away, short of breath. 

"Nuh-uh. You can't come yet," Yeosang said, pulling back for a moment, blonde hair fanning into his eyes. "I want a good taste."

Wooyoung muttered something inaudible and retracted his shaky hands, letting Yeosang take control. The rough grooves of Yeosang's tongue felt like sandpaper on his sensitive cock, and it made the boy tremble uncontrollably, conflicted on whether to pull away or chase the feeling. Yeosang slobbered over Wooyoung's cock, latching his mouth over the tip and hollowing his cheeks to suck with enthusiasm. He didn't dare to take more of the length, but seeing the way Wooyoung's mouth hung open in ecstasy, that wasn't going to be needed. 

Yeosang felt his hole clench when he gripped Wooyoung's cock and licked more fervently in hopes of getting fucked by it later, arching his back to display his ass. He didn't care whose cock it was anymore. He heard San shift behind him, and registered his warm touch. Rough hands spread him apart where he was aching the most, thumbs stretching out his hole. A pointy tongue teased the corners of his stretched rim as Yeosang felt San bury his face between his cheeks. San’s lips latched onto his rim, making Yeosang whine low and long when he grazed the skin with teeth.

Instinctually, Yeosang's hands came to spread himself open in an even more obscene manner, and San felt dizzy with how hard his cock was. San took the opportunity to insert a finger in the quivering hole, curling at just the right spot. 

That only made Yeosang hum around Wooyoung's cock, mouth working overtime to compensate for the loss of his hands. The handsfree blowjob looked like something out of a sexual deviant's fantasy.

Wooyoung brushed the blonde's hair out of his eyes, observing the look of complete bliss on his face as he slobbered and blabbered around his cock. Then Yeosang pulled back to say something that lit a fire of embarrassment inside Wooyoung.

"Your cock tastes so good," he said, absolutely delirious, and it should be endearing how he lisped but at that moment Wooyoung couldn't categorize that sentence as a compliment whatsoever and the utter shameless nature of it all combined with Yeosang's fixation on his cock drove him over the edge.

"'m coming, coming!" he blabbered, panicking too much to know what to do. He pulled out his cock prematurely and pumped it infront of Yeosang's keen eyes. 

"Don't look at my cock so closely, ah! I'm- gah!" Wooyoung’s hips twitched as his hand milked the angry cock at a fast pace. Before Yeosang could take cover, Wooyoung sent hot spurts of cum all over his pretty face, collecting in thick droplets, running down his face as he began to understand what just occured. Yeosang's tongue darted out to collect the semen on the corners of his mouth, and an absolutely horrified Wooyoung stared at Yeosang as he lapped up the cum. 

"Wonder if your blood tastes this good?" Yeosang said lovingly, craning his neck to lick off the cum on Wooyoung's thighs, gradually making his way inward to the softening cock. As he engulfed the tip again, he savored the taste of the white liquid collecting at the slit.

"Please- It's sensitive," Wooyoung said, followed by a sound that might've been a sob. His hips shook uncontrollably, the words not doing much to dampen Yeosang's eagerness. Meanwhile, San was getting Yeosang comfortably loose with three fingers to accomodate his cock next. Yeosang wished he was always gaping and inviting like that. 

"Want it up my ass, Sannie," Yeosang slurred right on cue, momentarily pulling away from the overstimulated cock and wagging his ass. Sometimes San wondered if the pair shared telepathic abilities. 

San circled the tip of his slippery cock on Yeosang's pucker, slightly forcing it inside, admiring the work he'd done of stretching him out. Yeosang's eyes went wide as he immediately discerned the difference in girth. San's cock felt so much bigger and fuller than mere fingers and Yeosang couldn't wait until he got fucked brainless. 

San replaced Yeosang's hands with his own, and slowly continued to intrude, cock catching on the tight muscle. It was a true wonder how he fit like a glove around him even though they'd fucked in the morning. San slowly fucked into Yeosang with only his tip, drawing it out just to push in again. 

As San's pace steadily picked up, Yeosang found himself unable to concentrate on Wooyoung's cock. He withdrew himself and got down on his elbows, unable to hold himself up. He bunched up his gown and apprehensively touched his cock, body immediately jerking. Too scared he'll come if so much as a gust of wind blew in his direction, Yeosang retrieved his hand. Instead, he devoted his attention to San's pounding. 

San was playing a dirty game, fucking very shallowly, having Yeosang concentrate on the tip solely. Yeosang was panting heavily, head hanging low, trying to keep himself up. Every instinct in his body was telling him to come but he just couldn't unless he touched his cock. But it was so built up and hard, Yeosang was scared to touch it. Sensing Yeosang's plight, San boldly gripped his cock and tugged and squeezed with a fast rhythm. Yeosang almost collapsed on the floor, brainless and whimpering. 

San hushed him, rubbing soothing circles onto his back and slowing his pace to appease him. However, most days Yeosang didn't wish to be went easy on. San's hand went to cup Yeosang's cockhead and the way he played with it appeared as if he was polishing the tip, palm sliding frictionless over the slick skin. 

Growing impatient, San fucked into Yeosang deeper and deeper, reaching the hilt and still going farther. He angled his thrusts right where it made Yeosang dribble more from his cock, brushing against the swollen nub that made Yeosang let out the most obscene of sounds. At some point, San mounted Yeosang like he was prey and reached so deep it should've been impossible. Yeosang felt like he was hovering above the realm of existence, fucked out of his mind, but not yet reaching the peak he so craved because of San's torturous methods. 

A string of precum was connecting Yeosang's cock to the floor and the poor thing was lurid red, bobbing against his stomach. San's hips were a force of nature, sending his cock throbbing inside Yeosang. San's usual smiling face was corrupted by another emotion, eyebrows knitted and bottom lip held between teeth as if he were in immense pain. But it was a different kind of emotion altogether. He was so turned on, if he didn't concentrate he'd come any second. He could come untouched just thinking about the prospect of sharing his pretty husband. 

Yeosang had shown great reserve when Wooyoung first arrived. Yeosang wouldn't have ever tolerated this if he was his normal, proper self. The thought of how much Yeosang loved getting toyed with sent a fire right down San where it mattered.

"You sure were putting on a show before." San held Yeosang's arms like the reigns of a horse, using it as leverage to fuck into him with greater precision. "You just wanna get fucked all the time."

San felt his balls tighten up, and the image of Yeosang getting fucked by both Wooyoung and himself replayed in his head until a hitched growl was yanked from between his teeth, thrusting too deep and too hard, spilling hot ropes of cum. Yeosang squealed at the feeling of being filled up, knees knocking together and slipping from the buildup of slick fluid under him. He collapsed on the floor, San's cock pulling out from his ass with a squelchy sound. Unintentionally, Yeosang rutted against the hard wooden floor, the weight of his own body and San nestled right on top of him enough to have him writhing and he came hard, trembling and leaking like a broken faucet.

The sight was downright filthy and wrong, Yeosang collapsed on the floor, as San and Wooyoung towered over him with softening cocks. 

He felt used and it was the best feeling in the world. 

When Yeosang regained his bearings, he was being lowered into a warm bath, San peppering his face with light kisses.

"About that thing you said," San began. "About not fucking for a week. Let's try it."

"Can't we do that later?" Yeosang reasoned groggily. “Like next month.” San rubbed circles of soap into his scalp with gentle fingers. 

"You promised."

"Yeah but-"

"But? Prove to me you're not as needy as I think you are."

Yeosang sulked. He didn't want this at all. But he couldn't refuse, it'd just prove San right.

"Okay, then. Deal. One week from now."

"Deal," San said, dimpled smile not betraying what was hiding underneath.

If only Yeosang understood then what he was signing up for.

**Author's Note:**

> the tonal shifts ! could you guess i have adhd  
> lorde im so sorry for using your song for this garbage 
> 
> thanks for reading leave comments pls !!!


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